Date: Tue, 23 Mar 2010 21:47:58 -0700 (PDT) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: Bar Tab Buy-out! 02 The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection. Bar Tab Buy-out! 02 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % A smile on Terenzi's face was very provoking. Three seconds ago Scott could have punched his lights out, but remained 'cool' to the fact it would only serve as weighing evidence against him. "Yeah, you're just waiting for me to fall prey to," as he thought it, "punching your lights out, so you can slap the cuffs on me. Well I'm not falling for it one bit!" Scott stood his ground. Leaning forwards, detaching his ass from the table, the law enforcement marshall walks to the door, closes it. Walking back to where he's left Scott standing, he slowly removes his suit jacket. "What in the hell are you trying to prove?" Scott inquires, thinking if Terenzi is headed in the direction his thoughts are going, he's going to follow through on his threat, victim to a 'hot fuck'? "Giving you a fair chance on getting even, Brock?" "Huh?" Scott wonders 'what tha?', Terenzi standing there before him after tossing his jacket over the top of a high back chair, at attention, placing his hands behind his head. He says insistantly, "Go ahead. Give me your best shot." "No way," Scott replies. "Next thing you'll have me up for is assault?" "Strictly off the record, remember? I'm good for my word." "Why do I find that hard to believe?" Scott replies as Terenzi still stands there, elbows propped up. Dropping his arms, Terenzi replies, "And what if I were to strike first. You would defend yourself?" "Sure I would," Scott replies, "in court?" A few things were setting off all the alarms which made Terenzi's pubes vibrate, Scott's audacity to question him, plus the indignant way in which left him the alternative to continue his provocation. "Tell me Mr. Brock, have you at any time of your life done any roleplaying?" "Why are you asking me these 'un'intelligent questions? To show me what an asshole you are? Or can't you think of anything more than something totally asinine?" "This is why!" He never saw it coming, never dreamed anthing like this would commence, what with their exchange of words, thinking in words seemed the battle of defenses, but a punch to his gut? "Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh! Oh fuck!" Scott yelled out as air evacuted his bod, sending him to his knees as he caved in forwards. Squatting down, Terenzi replies, "If it means anything to you, it felt good punching you in the stomach. So... what are you going to do it about Brock?" In between heaves of air, in and out of his lungs, Scott replies, "Just... just what you... don't want me... to do...." Shaking his head back and forth, Terenzi presses himself up to a standing position, walks over to the door, flicking the locking mechanism. As he heads back into the room, he begins loosening his tie. Regaining composure somewhat, Scott rights himself up on one knee. "What are you going to do now? Finish me off?" "No," Terenzi states as he lays his tie, neatly folded onto the board meeting table. He begins to unbutton his shirt, from the collar, "next move is yours, Brock!" Scott stood, but he wasn't reacting in the way Terenzi wanted. As he fanned his white shirt outwards, uncoupling of all the buttons, Terenzi pulled it from his pants. "Tell me Brock, you like your men hairy or smooth?" "I like my men behaving like gentlemen!" He stood his ground, unflinching, yet doing nothing which would provoke. In a casually manner, after Terenzi had divested himself of his shirt, hanging it over his jacket, he proceeded to walk towards Scott. "Don't come any closer." "Hey, that's my line!" Terenzi joked, placing a hand on his own hairy chest. He then felt up his right pec, placing his left hand on his left pec. It seemed like he amused himself, his thumbs and fingers pinching his own nips. "Tell me Scott... I can call you Scott, now that we're getting intimate?" "You're a sick fuck!" Scott accuses. Laughing it off, Terenzi replies, "I've been accused of worse, but tell me Scott, do you like sucking a man's hairy nips?" Tired of the cat and mouse game, Scott decides this 'could' be off the record, especially since Terenzi stands there, half-naked before him. He plays up to him, "I might." "Good! You're loosening up." Scott figured, five minutes from now, Terenzi would 'try' making him sink to his knees. He had other thoughts. "I might like the taste of your nips, if that's what you're driving at?" Unhanding himself and smiling, Terenzi approaches Scott, wording it, "I'm glad you decided to come around." What Terenzi wasn't expecting, is Scott balling up his fist, ready to plunge it where it 'really' hurts! "Surprise?" Terenzi says, with a feat of strength, holding back Scott's fist inches in front of the target. "Did you think I am that gullible, Scott?" With all his might, Scott is trying to drive forwards, defeated by Terenzi's amazing strength. "You forget. Even though this is off the record, I'm not forgetting how to use all my trained abilities. Like this little manuever?" Scott didn't know what happened, it coming so fast, but in seconds he was lying in a fetal position on the floor, holding his own set of bashed in balls. "Oh man Scotty-boy! I didn't know you were going to be this much fun!" Terenzi laughed it off, Scott in a pile on the floor, moaning in pain at his misfortune of a punch to his pubes. "Hey! I got an idea! Let's try that again?" Crawling over to the wall, where the leather sofa met a table, Scott says, "You stay clear of me!" "How can you say that Scotty? Two gay men in a room all alone... we should be having fun. Aren't you having fun Scotty?" His back was to the wall. He didn't have anyplace else to go. He did wonder something, ever so remote, but popped the question, "Aren't your people missing their leader?" Grabbing Scott by the front of the suit jacket, Terenzi uses brute force to get him to his feet, pasting his back against the wall. "They do their thing and I do mine!" "Terrorize innocent people?" Looking down, between the opening of Scott's jacket, he asses, "Hmm, I bet you're lots of fun underneath that shirt Scotty!" Before Scott could react, Terenzi forces his jacket over his shoulders, down his back, pinning his arms behind his back. "An old trick I learned in college!" He laughs it off, hauling Scott from the wall to sitting in a chair. "Here's another little trick!" Taking his own white shirt, Terenzi furthers his bondaging-up of Scott, tying his wrists behind at the back of the chair, slipping the shirt in between the small gap at the back of the highback chair. "So now you're going to beat me to a pulp. Oh, that should look good on the hospital records!" Scott dares. "On the contrary," Terenzi replies, lifting a leg up, plopping it down on the other side of the chair, like a jockey mounting his steed, facing Scott. His arms fall onto Scott's shoulders. "Now, does this look like I'm being aggressive?" "No. More like assault?" Even though he said it, Scott couldn't fight the feeling of their cocks, even though encased in their pants, were readying to do battle! Smiling, Terenzi, in his own twisted manner, slips his hands from Scott's shoulders to where his tie is knotted around his collar. "Why don't we see what you're hiding under here, Scott?" "I'm going to have you up on more charges then you know what to do with Terenzi!" Ignoring Scott's threats, Terenzi asks with a smile, "Tell me Scott, did you enjoy it when I punched you in the stomach?" "You're sick!" Nonchalantly as Terenzi pulls the tie from Scott's shirt, rather quickly, he says, "It felt good doing it. I'd like to do it some more, but of course with your permission?" "What? Of course I'm not going to give you my permission to do something as idiotic as punching me in the stomach! What kind of stupid, idiotic question is that?" As he unbuttons the front of Scott's shirt, he says, "Just giving you the common courtesy before I go ahead and do it. That's all." "What?" Scott says, never hearing something as obscure as this before. "Yeah," Terenzi continues, unfastening each button of Scott's shirt till it's at the fold in his stomach. "It's why I'm taking your shirt off. So I can see my target when my first plunges into your gut. I don't want to miss." All this time, Scott is thinking what a sick, fuckin' idiot this guy is, but not oblivious to the fact soon he's probably going to carry out with his threats! "There. Wow what a nice bod! You must workout?" Terenzi says, a finger running over each separated ab of his six pack. Standing, backing off from sitting on Scott's lap, he takes on the full view, "Oh yes. Very nicely developed six pack, or eight?" "I'm not answering anymore of your questions," Scott says, keeping his mouth tight-lipped. Same time he braces himself. Knowing a bit about Terenzi's style, he can't be certain when the gut punch is coming, but pretty much can predict it will mo'certainly happen. "Great!" Terenzi says as he backs up. Placing his left hand over his enclosed, right hand fist, he says, "I guess if I want to know anything further, I'll have to beat it out of you!" It's much of a stalemate, Scott not talking, Terenzi seeminly outweighing his advantage. "So, do you work out at the gym?" It was the stupidest question, especially if someone is out to interrogate another. Figuring it more, Scott wasn't letting up his guard and countered the measure by holding his abs even in a more stiff rendering, his core totally braced for anything. "I asked. You didn't answer. So, that's how interrogation works!" He walks up to Scott, bends over, grabs his ankles and pulls on his legs. It totally straightens out Scott's bod. In the haste of the surprise action, Scott loses all control of his abs. "Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" he's left without the advantage of even bending in half, his midsection left wide open. Cool, calm and collectively, Terenzi asks, "So, do you workout at the gym?" In between gasps of air and the inability to cover his sore abs, Scott pleads, "I fuckin' work out at the gym, okay?" "Good. We're getting someplace. See? Interrogation really does work!" At the same time, Terenzi takes up a chair, twirls it around and places it in front of Scott. He sits in it, facing him. "Whatever happened to water boarding?" Scott says, almost recovered from the gut punch, at least his breathing more in sync, his abs still aching. "Water boarding? What fun is that!" Terenzi says, sitting back. "Tell me Scott, do you enjoy receiving pain?" "Do I look like I like receiving pain?" Scott returns, sarcastically. Sitting erect, hands folded in front of him like an angelic schoolboy, Terenzi says, "You know, I bet once you learned to enjoy it, you would like it?" "What the fuck? Nobody enjoys pain. Pain is the woe of everyone in the world. People live to escape pain. Pain is the scourge of those who like to inflict it. People like yourself?" He was driving a point, Scott trying to shame his aggressor. "Nah. You're approaching it all wrong Scott. It's like sex. I like to fuck and you like to get fucked." He waited for Scott to admit something, but it didn't materialize. "Okay, so you like to get fucked but you're not admitting to it. It's okay. That'll come later. But for now I think we should at least 'try' to get you to like pain." Breaking away from the moment, Scott says, "Y'know sooner or later somebody is going to miss my presence? Wonder where I am?" Sitting back, smiling, the law enforcement marshall relaxes, saying, "Right after they took the Barnett brothers out, the building was closed down. Without a sole in the building, including the evening cleaning crew, there's no need for security. Besides, we're watching the building from the outside. Since I'm in charge of the operation, there's no reason for anyone to question me being in here with you, for the purpose of looking over the records?" "You think you have all your bases covered? Well, what happens when you let me go? Are you too stupid not to think I'm going straight to the police? Oh, the press would have a field day with what I have to tell them!" But Marco Terenzi indeed had all the bases covered. "I think by the time I release you, which may not be until tomorrow morning, you and I will have 'an understanding'." "Tomorrow morning? That's like twelve hours away!" "Yeah," Terenzi sits back and smiles. "And between now and then you and I are going to have so much fun!" All poor Scott could think of, is what churned over and over in Marco Terenzi's brain, his chin tilted downwards, watching as his aggressor's hands worked at unbuckling his belt. "Oh man... I'm hard thinking of how much you're going to love this Scott!" Before, when Terenzi had said they were alone in the building, Scott had as much as given up on escaping his dilemma. He resigned to the fact Terenzi was going to do to him whatever pleasured himself, so to voice opinion would only clue the man into feeding his warped mind. He did question, "Don't you have a conscience?" "Yeah and it's telling me that by tomorrow morning, even though your bod is so sore and aching, you're gonna love feeling the pain so much you'll be begging to meet with me again." It was so-fuckin' lunacy, but Scott knew to protest would be just so futile. "Oh now. This is so-o-o-o beautiful. I love the bulge in your briefs. Oh man, I wish I had had a clear view of these balls before I punched you before. Shall we unwrap the package?" He looks up to Scott as if seeking a clear cut answer. But Scott's eyes weren't there to meet him, only the top of his head, his eyes closed, head down in disgust. "I asked you a question, Scotty-boy!" Scott saw stars, his eyes shooting open as his head was uprighted, Terenzi plucking his head of hair up with his head, banging his head against the back of the chair. "What the fuck do you want?" Scott exclaimed. "Respect for one thing," Terenzi says, letting go of Scott's head of hair. "Yeah. I think we should definitely get that out of the way." It irked Scott, seeing Terenzi get up, move the chair which faced him, out of the way. But what jarred his senses even more was his interrogator unbuckling his belt, removing the thin piece of leather, stripping it from the loops of his pants. "Time for you to learn your lessons, Scotty-boy!" With that, he approached Scott on the side, lifted a foot and kicked at the side of the chair Scott sat in. "Shit!" Scott exclaimed when the chair keeled over. It was made of solid mahogany. He was hoping it would break, but it didn't. Instead, Scott wondered whether his arms would, his bod tipping to the side, the back of the chair falling to the floor, him falling flat on his front, arms stretched high above his head. Straddling the chair, Terenzi bowed over, took the back of Scott's shirt and peeled it up, over his arms, exposing his bare back. Running the back of his hand down Scott's back, he describes, "Oh so nice and smooth! So white and... Perfect!" Faced down, his nostrils to the floor, Scott could smell the musty rug, but more alarming was not of dirt breathing into his lungs, but wondering what Terenzi's next plan of action was. It then dawned on him, "You mind telling me what the fuck this is all about? Why are you doing this to me?" "First things first, Scott," Terenzi says. Standing over Scott, he draws his belt above his head, bringing it down over Scott's flawlessly white shoulder blades. "Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Scott screams. Then, relentlessly Scott feels the same, Terenzi's thin, leather belt pelting his upper back. "There. That oughta do it. It should be the last bit of insolence I hear out of you." And then to drive a point home, Terenzi 'orders', "It's the last amount of backtalk I expect to hear out of you. Get my drift Scotty-boy?" Scott let out a long scream, feeling the belt strike him, a target crossing his entire back. "I hear ya...I hear ya!" he found himself telling Terenzi. "Good. We've established some mutual ground. Now..." Surprised, to say the least, Terenzi unknotting the white shirt around his wrists. Boy, did Scott know what he was going to do when he was freed! "When I've unbound you, we'll have a different understanding about us, right?" Somehow, Scott didn't like the way Terenzi said it. Of course, he would be expecting a fight to the finish. Scott was still all for it, but didn't know exactly how to approach it. Too, he wasn't up to par, not after the gut punching and the whipping, especially after having his back 'filleted'. The punch to his balls had passed, not much remnants of anything but a numb feeling of sorts, the kind telling 'something' happened down there. He got to his knees. Standing directly in front of him, Terenzi encourages him, after tossing his belt on the table, "C'mon. Show me what you've got Scott!" "Why?" Scott returned with words, making surrender of sorts, folding his arms across his middle in a relaxed state of mind. "So you can pick up from where you left off?" "On the contrary, Scott. I read your stat sheet. You were quite the wrestler in high school 'and' college?" "And I suppose you were a regular 'Karate Kid' at the Academy?" "I promise I won't use any karate. C'mon. Just you and me on the floor. Fair and square wrestling it out." "Why am I having a problem trusting what you say, Terenzi?" "Look. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." Scott watched as Terenzi lay down on the floor, on his stomach, spreading his arms out, eagle-spread. "Yeah and as I approach you, you're going to trip me up with your legs and then pummel me with your fists. C'mon Terenzi. You can do better than that!" "Put the chair over them." "What?" Scott said, thinking about it, thinking if he did cage Terenzi's legs in between the feet of the heavy mahogany chair, he wouldn't have a prayer to his defense. "You heard me. The chair. Channel it so it's binding my legs in between it." Scott did it without incident. "Then what?" Being cagey, while he gave Terenzi time to think, Scott was already reacting. "Aghhhhhhhh!" Terenzi called out as Scott fell, from standing to flat on his chest, pinning Terenzi in between himself and the floor. "Good move!" he called out after Scott's feet kicked the chair out of the way. "Here's a better move!" Scott exclaimed, grabbing up Terenzi's arms. From there he tried standing, clenching his aggressor's arms as he slid his hands down his hairy arms, reconnecting at the wrists. "So, what do they teach you at school when you're on your belly, arms clenched behind you, a guy's foot planted in your back? Huh?" "I guess you have me Scott!" Tired of the game or guessing what Terenzi's game was, Scott lets go, saying, "You're a fuckin' asshole!" Backing off, he allowed Terenzi to turn over onto his back. "I could rush you, you know?" Scott replies, "You could have turned my abs to mush or flayed my back with your belt, but you didn't. I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm not amused. Now can we both get out of here?" Slowly getting up, seeming to back off, rather than moving to attack, Terenzi says, "I had to see what you could take. You're pretty tough you know?" Beginning to put himself back together again, Scott rebuttons his shirt down himself. He looks over his shoulder, commenting, "I hope you didn't make me get any blood on my shirt." It was all the distraction Terenzi needed. "Whoooooa! Oh fuck!" On the floor Scott winds up, on his back, Terenzi on top of him. "I'm not finished with you yet!" "Oh really?" Scott says, more in a sarcastic way. "Well I'm finished with 'you'!" Terenzi never thought, Scott moving his fists out to the side, bringing them back, crashing into Terenzi's obliques. "Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk! Oh! Oh! Oh fuck!" "I guess it's time 'you' learnt 'your lesson'!" Terenzi was a powerhouse, but now Scott surpassed him, his adrenaline keyed in and running at full speed. With hardly an ounce of exertion, Scott comes from behind, grabs Terenzi under the arms, pulls him up to his feet, placing his hands behind his neck, securing him in a tight, full nelson. "Oh fuck this is hot!" Terenzi says. Thinking he had the advantage, he didn't see his downfall, Terenzi swinging his leg back, catching Scott right in the nuts! "Now your turn!" Terenzi says, grabbing at Scott's arms. Feeling what it's like, the preclude to being set up in a full nelson, Scott intercedes, grabbing at Terenzi's wrists, pulling him forwards, his chest crashing into Scott's back. Twofold, he backs up against the wall! "Ughhhhhhhh! Oh! Two points!" Terenzi yells out, as if joking about it. "How about two more?" Scott jokes back, jambing his elbow into Terenzi's ribs. Surprise! Terenzi wiggles to his left, Scott's right elbow making an indentation in the wall! "Aikkk!" he calls out when he feels a punch to his lower left back. Arching it backwards, Scott didn't have a clue he was leaving his abs wide open. "Ughhhhhh!" he calls out, feeling a fist gutting his abs. "Fuckin' hot! Yeah! Now we're going!" Terenzi calls out. Realizing he's back into Terenzi's twisted game, Scott reacts with nonreaction. "Go ahead! Get it over with!" Still laboring with his breath, Scott more or less presents his stomach for being worked over. "You want it?" "Not in the way you mean it, but if in the long run you're going to pummel my abs with your fist.. hey, whatever turns you on man!" "What fun is that?" Terenzi questions him. "What fuckin' fun is any of this?" Scott asks, flailing his hands at his sides. "Damn it Scott! All I wanted was a fun night of beating and getting beat up... or whichever either of us happened it to turn out!" "That doesn't make any fuckin' sense, Terenzi. You go through all this to accost me, then tell me you want to get beat up?" "Yeah, well it started out that way, but then I realize you're not such a gullible guy. I suddenly get the feeling that maybe it would be more of a turn on to have you work me over. You know, tie me to the chair and then do what you want to me?" "No. I don't know. I haven't an idea of what your driving at, okay? Now, what I'm willing to do is, if you get your clothes on and get the fuck out of here, we'll keep this off the record, okay?" "No. I can't let that happen." "You know, you're such a mysterious guy, because I have a feeling something more is going down here than a friendly evening of wrestling? Just what the fuck does all this have to do with the Barnett brothers' Ponzi Scheme?" "None," Terenzi replies as he backs up to the table and parks his ass. "Then what?" "I promised a guy something." "What guy?" "It's a long story," Terenzi replies. Lightening up, Scott not leaving himself totally at risk, by keeping his distance, says, "Do I need to tie you to the chair and beat it out of you?" "If you want to. I've played that game before?" Trying to assess his remarks, Scott replies, "And what if I don't want to play your game?" A truce developed, the two keeping their distance, Scott sliding down the wall, parking his ass on the floor, Marco Terenzi's legs forming a Yoga stance, him collapsing neatly into a triangle at the side of the table. Talking it out, Scott learns Marco, reveals his promise to repay a bar tab, which accumulated one night, in excess of twenty-eight thousand dollars, most of the liquor in the form of smashed bottles, after being drunk and starting a fight. "So, not only was I charged for the tab of all the liquor consumed within twelve hours, but also the price at what was lost in the fight." "But you make good money as a law enforcement agent? Pay it!" "Unlike you, I have debts." "Your position. Can't you pressure the bartender into forgiveness?" Marco replies, "It's getting dark in here." "You're avoiding the subject. The light switch is on the wall," Scott replies, getting up, the same way he landed, sliding up the wall. "Owch!" he says of his sore, welted back. "I can take care of that if you want. That is if you want to trust me." Scott says, "It would be a near impossible thing to do." "If you don't want to go to my place, we can go to yours." "Yours, it would be," Scott replies. "You don't think I'm going to let you into my place, have you tie me up and steal everything I own?" "I could have done it if I wanted to already," Marco replies. "Oh," Scott says. "I suppose, with your power, you could have done just that. Still, your place it is!" On the contrary, as Scott follows Marco to his place, he's wondering why he's doing anything of the sort. Why doesn't he just go home to his own abode, Marco going on his own way? Was this like a mystery waiting to be solved, him being the detective? Yet, as he drives along, a hand hangs back from the steering wheel, feeling up his abs, hand rubbing his stomach, thinking, 'that was some right hook!'. % Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee `Bar Tab Buy-out!' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author. The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....